


Sometimes It Just Sucks

by DinosaurTheology



Series: Johnny and Dora [18]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Car Accidents, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 18:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14407647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinosaurTheology/pseuds/DinosaurTheology
Summary: Amy's day is a day. Jake tries to make it better. He might, a little. Or a lot.





	Sometimes It Just Sucks

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've actually been on this call--EMS side, not police. It does, indeed, suck. I've just been thinking about this stuff a lot, recently--one of our local agencies lost a guy to suicide and I haven't quite processed it, yet. I'm glad all our friends in the 99 are helping me.

Jake has cleaned their apartment and cooked, in his opinion, a bomb-ass awesome dinner. Okay, okay, so it's basically just ground beef and ramen noodles with chili oil, and he's not sure that the ground beef isn't more than a little bit burned but, well... it's the thought that counts, right? He sure hopes like hell it is and that the fine men of FDNY Engine 216 and Ladder 108 don't mind that they had to run a possible structure fire here twice in the last six hours. Maybe it would be a good idea to make em a plate of leftovers? A nice gift basket?

Nah, he thinks. Screw those land sharks. Getting pulled away from their naps, Powerade and XBox has probably been the high light of their day. And think that they will actually get to fight a fire? Must be like Christmas.

And even if it isn't? Jake finds he doesn't care. Today has been Amy's first full shift as an NYPD sergeant. He has decided that the only possible way to show her how much he appreciates her, how proud he is of her, is with bad food badly cooked (but with lots and lots of love), cuddles, the crossword puzzle documentary Wordplay on DVD and, if things turn out according to his nefarious scheme, lots of sexytimes to last the whole night through.

He had considered, seriously, greeting her at the door in nothing more than his Kvell The Cook apron and the smile God gave him. He finds himself super glad that he chose against this course of action when his fiancee staggers in caked with what he sincerely hopes is somebody else's dried blood and collapses face first onto the couch.

He sits beside her, draws her head into his lap and strokes her dark, tangled hair. "So, uh, how was your day at the office, hon?"

"Meep."

"Mmm, mmm, very interesting. Did you make a lot of sprockets for Mr. Spacely?"

She blows a raspberry against his thigh. It's a step in the right direction, at least, and shows a little of the spunk he fell in love with. He presses forward a little, "So, how's about you get cleaned up and we have supper? I made something special for you."

"Morp?"

"Yep, yep, it's delicious ramen surprise. The surprise is that I didn't burn the house down."

"Ploof."

"That's right, babe. The shower's right through there. Just leave your suit on the floor and I'll get it for you. Nothing like a nice hot shower..." He makes the soothing noises that he knows she needs to hear and leads her to the bathroom door. The world is nothing but steam in only a few moments.

She returns in pink, fluffy robe and her hair twisted up in a turban. She sits on the end of the couch opposite his and lifts her delicate feet into his lap. Jake has never been a foot fetishist but her slim ankles and cut little toes create a deep understanding of them in him. "Sorry that your special, romantic dinner didn't quite turn out. Today was...a day."

"Some of the best ones usually are," he says, "and occasionally some of the worst, too. Want to tell me about it? Like, specifically why you looked like you had bathed in tomato juice?"

"I helped work a wreck right before the end of my shift," she says. "Pedestrian versus car. The pedestrian...er..." Amy twists and tugs her fingers.

"I'm guessing he didn't make it, huh?"

"She."

"Then I'm guessing she didn't make it."

"Nope," Amy says. "It was just... bad, Jake. The poor kid was only ten years old, running across the street to the bodega to get a candy bar for little brother and... boom!" She smacks her small fist into the palm of the opposite hand. "She's not gonna get any older."

"Damn," he says. "I'm sorry. DOA or...?"

She shrugs. "She had a pulse when I got there so the Bed-Stuy guys tried to work it. There wasn't much to work, though. When FDNY 57 got there the paramedic riding-in-charge called it and, well... that's the story."

"It's a sad one," Jake says. "I've heard it before but that doesn't make it any easier."

"No kidding." Amy screws up her face, thinks hard before saying anything, makes sure the words come out right. "The kid was Latina. She kinda looked like me--or would have, I guess."

"Come again? I'm surprised you could see much of anything given--"

"I couldn't. She was mostly hamburger but, like, one eye was open. I know she wasn't, she wasn't there enough to, but it felt like she was staring at me with that one eye. Like ,'why do you get to be grownup and happy and successful and in love while I'm laying here?'" She hugs herself close. "She wasn't doing anything wrong, nothing at all. She just wanted to go and get a stupid freaking Zero bar for her little brother and now she's dead."

"What about the driver? Was he drunk or..."

 

She shakes her head. "Nope. It was an old guy from Queens. I thought he was gonna have a heart attack sitting there in his car--it was an old guy car, too. A Lincoln. This one wasn't anybody's fault, not really. Stuff just sucks, sometimes."

He gathers her into his arms. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, it does. But the only thing you can do is to go out and try to make it suck a little less, and failing that to remember that some things don't suck. That's the only thing we can do to keep from losing our minds."

She snuggles against him. "You help me keep from losing mine."

"Well," says, "I mean, one totally crazy person per marriage is enough, right? Somebody has to keep it together."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." They sit that way for a long time curled in and around each other. The ramen surprise gets cold but somehow it doesn't matter.


End file.
